;y7  - 

\  IB 64-: 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


. 

• 


E  VAGABONDS. 


BY 


J.  T.   TROWBRIDGE, 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  F.  O.  C.  BARLEY. 


RE-PRINTED    FROM     THE    ATLANTIC     MONTHLY. 


NEW      YORK: 
JAMES    G.  GREGORY,  46,  WALKER  STREET. 


M.DCCC.LXIV. 


C  .      A        A  L  V  O  R  D  ,     P  R  I  X  T  K  R  . 


THE    VAGABONDS. 

WE  are  two  travellers,  Roger  and  I. 

Eoger's  my  dog. — Come  here,  you  scamp ! 
Jump  for  the  gentlemen, — mind  your  eye  ! 

Over  the  table, — look  out  for  the  lamp  !— 
The  rogue  is  growing  a  little  old ; 

Five  years  we've  tramped  through  wind  and  weather, 
And  slept  out-doors  when  nights  were  cold, 

And  ate  and  drank— and  starved — together. 


759779 


THE   VAGABONDS. 


We've  learned  what  comfort  is,  I  tell  you  ! 

A  bed  on  the  floor,  a  bit  of  rosin, 
A  fire  to  thaw  our  thumbs  (poor  fellow ! 

The  paw  he  holds  up  there's,  been  frozen), 
Plenty  of  catgut  for  my  fiddle 

(This  out-door  business  is  bad  for  strings),  - 
Then  a  few  nice  buckwheats  hot  from  the  griddle, 

And  Roger  and  I  set  up  for  kings  ! 


No,  thank  ye,  Sir, — I  never  drink ; 

Roger  and  I  are  exceedingly  moral, — 
Aren't  we,  Roger? — See  him  wink! — 

Well,  something  hot,  then, — we  won't  quarrel. 
He's  thirsty,  too, — see  him  nod  his  head  ? 

What  a  pity,  Sir,  that  dogs  can't  talk ! 
He  understands  every  word  that's  said,— 

And  he  knows  good  milk  from  water-and -chalk. 


THE    VAGABONDS. 


THE    VAGABONDS. 


The  truth  is,  Sir,  now  I  reflect, 

I've  been  so  sadly  given  to  grog, 
I  wonder  I've  not  lost  the  respect 

(Here's  to  you,  Sir !)  even  of  my  dog. 
But  he  sticks  by,  through  thick  and  thin; 

And  this  old  coat,  with  its  empty  pockets, 
And  rags  that  smell  of  tobacco  and  gin, 

He'll  follow  while  he  has  eyes  in  his  socket- 


There  isn't  another  creature  living- 
Would  do  it,  and  prove,  through  every  disaster, 

So  fond,  so  faithful,  and  so  forgiving, 
To  such  a  miserable,  thankless  master! 

No,  Sir ! — see  him  wag  his  tail  and  grin ! 
By  George  !  it  makes  my  old  eyes  water ! 

That  is,  there's  something  in  this  gin 
That  chokes  a  fellow.     But  no  matter! 


We'll  have  some  music,  if  you're  willing. 

And  Roger  here  (what  a  plague  a  cough  is,  Sir) 
Shall  inarch  a  little Start,  you  villain  ! 

Paws  up  !     Eyes  front !     Salute  your  officer  ! 
'Bout  face  !     Attention  !     Take  your  rifle  ! 

(Some  dogs  have  arms,  you  see  !)     Now  hold  your 
Cap  while  the  gentlemen  give  a  trifle, 

To  aid  a  poor  old  patriot  soldier ! 


THE    VAGABONDS. 


March  !     Halt !     Now  show  how  the  rebel  shakes, 

When  he  stands  up  to  hear  his  sentence. 
Now  tell  us  how  many  drams  it  takes 

To  honor  a  jolly  new  acquaintance. 
Five  yelps, — that's  five ;  he's  mighty  knowing  ! 

The  night's  before  us,  fill  the  glasses  ! — 
Quick,  Sir  !     I'm  ill, — my  brain  is  going  ! — 

Some  brandy, — thank  you, — there ! — it  passes  ! 


Why  not  reform  ?     That's  easily  said  ; 

But  I've  gone  through  snch  wretched  treatment, 
Sometimes  forgetting  the  taste  of  bread, 

And  scarce  remsmbering  what  meat  meant, 
That  my  poor  stomach's  past  reform  ; 

And  there  are  times  when,  mad  with  thinking, 
I'd  sell  out  heaven  for  something  warm 

To  prop  a  horrible  inward  sinking. 


THE    VAGABONDS. 


10  THE    VAGABONDS. 


Is  there  a  way  to  forget  to  think  ? 

At  your  age,  Sir,  home,  fortune,  friends, 
A  dear  girl's  love, — but  I  took  to  drink ; — 

The  same  old  story  ;  you  know  how  it  ends. 
If  you  could  have  seen  these  classic  features, — 

You  needn't  laugh,  Sir;  they  were  not  then 
Such  a  burning  libel  on  God's  creatures : 

I  was  one  of  your  handsome  men! 


If  you  had  seen  HER,  so  fair  and  young, 

Whose  head  was  happy  on  this  breast ! 
If  you  could  have  heard  the  songs  I  sung 

When  the  wine  went  round,  you  wouldn't  have  guessed 
That  ever  I,  Sir,  should  be  straying 

From  door  to  door,  with  fiddle  and  dog, 
Bagged  and  penniless,  and  playing 

To  you  to-night  for  a  glass  of  grog ! 


'THE   VAGABONDS. 


11 


3). 


12  THE    VAGABONDS. 


She's  married  since, — a  parson's  wife : 

'Twas  better  for  her  that  we  should  part, — 
Better  the  soberest,  prosiest  life 

Than  a  blasted  home  and  a  broken  heart. 
I  have  seen  her?     Once:  I  was  weak  and  spent 

On  the  dusty  road :  a  carriage  stopped  : 
But  little  she  dreamed,  as  on  she  went, 

Who  kissed  the  coin  that  her  fingers  dropped ! 


You've  set  me  talking,  Sir ;  I'm  sorry  ; 

It  makes  me  wild  to  think  of  the  change ! 
What  do  you  care  for  a  beggar's  story  ? 

Is  it  amusing?  you  find  it  strange? 
I  had  a  mother  so  proud  of  me ! 

'Twas  well  she  died  before —         Do  you  know 
If  the  happy  spirits  in  heaven  can  see 

The  ruin  and  wretchedness  here  below  ? 


THE    VAGABONDS. 


13 


THE    VAGABONDS. 


Another  glass,  and  strong,  to  deaden 
This  pain ;  then  Eoger  and  I  will  start. 


I  wonder,  has  he  such  a  lumpish,  leaden, 
Aching  thing,  in  place  of  a  heart? 


THE    VAGABONDS.  15 


He  is  sad  sometimes,  and  would  weep,  if  he  could, 
No  doubt,  remembering  tilings  that  were, — 

A  virtuous  kennel,  with  plenty  of  food, 
And  himself  a  sober,  respectable  cur. 


I'm  better  now ;  that  glass  was  warming. — 

You  rascal !  limber  your  lazy  feet ! 
We  must  be  fiddling  and  performing 

For  supper  and  bed,  or  starve  in  the  street. — 
Not  a  very  gay  life  to  lead,  you  think  ? 

But  soon  we  shall  go  where  lodgings  are  free, 
And  the  sleepers  need  neither  victuals  nor  drink  ;— 

The  sooner,  the  better  for  Roger  and  me. 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALJFfWNlA 
LOS  ANGELES 


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